


Distracted

by wertdifferenz



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Lance (Voltron), Butt Plugs, M/M, Top Keith (Voltron), Yoga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-12
Packaged: 2021-02-22 14:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,948
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22684180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wertdifferenz/pseuds/wertdifferenz
Summary: When Lance does his yoga, totally distracting Keith from everything around him, it's only fair that Keith distracts him right back, right?
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 383





	Distracted

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Erinastasia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Erinastasia/gifts).



> This is a birthday fic for our lovely Eri! ♡♡♡
> 
> Eri, you are an awesome human being. You brighten our day with your presence and our nights with your art! I speak for all of us when I say that we love you to the moon and back! Happy Birthday! ♡♡♡

It’s been a good while since Lance disappeared with a kiss on Keith’s lips and the explanation that he’s going to work out for a little while. Usually, that means that Keith has an hour or two to himself, maybe even more if Lance relaxes hard enough to forget everything around him. 

Usually, that also means that Keith is not allowed to disturb Lance while he’s working out since he needs to focus, and he needs to relax- two things that Keith’s mere presence interrupts, even though Keith himself doesn’t know how or why.

All he does is watch Lance, how he stretches and folds and bends and breathes in and out and does everything Keith’s body would never be able to do with a grace that makes Keith’s dick throb in his pants and his brain screams for a camera to capture all those perfect moves. 

When his phone tells him that it’s been exactly two hours since Lance left him, Keith gets impatient. Sure, he could do something, like watch some TV, or read a book, or prepare some snacks for him and Lance to eat later, but that’s not what he wants to do.

That’s not  _ who  _ he wants to do. 

Almost silently Keith gets up from the couch, rounds it to get to the hallway and tiptoe to their little work out room, where Lance disappeared to over two hours ago. The door is open, so he doesn’t bother to knock and disturb Lance. All Keith does is lean against the doorframe and watch his boyfriend to yoga.

Bikram yoga to be exact. 

How Keith knows that? Because he’s already half hard. 

Why Keith is half hard? Because Lance is practicing the hottest yoga poses in his tight pants and loose tank, giving Keith the prettiest views on his plump ass, his strong thighs, his muscular stomach. 

Gosh, he loves Lance’s hobby.

He loves Lance’s body.

He just loves him.

Lance is doing the standing bow next. One leg firm on the floor, the other held behind his back with one hand. his free hand stretched out effortlessly- Lance’s form looks like a bow, but Lance himself looks like a fucking snack. 

He drops his leg behind him, keeping it in one line with his body, stretching his hamstrings and his chest and shoulders deliciously. Lance holds the pose for a few moments, breathes slowly in, even slower out, and gently drops his leg back on the floor, straightening his body and taking on the other side. 

His left-hand side is not as flexible as his right, but he doesn’t let it show as he flexes his toes, stretches his leg and arms, pulls his whole body into a curve, then a line, and then back on the floor to relax. 

Keith enjoys his time in the doorframe, just watching his boyfriend focus on his body, on each pose, each breath, each muscle flexing and relaxing under his soft, tan skin. Enjoys focusing his breath with Lance, each intake a move, each exhale a release. 

Lance places his feet apart from each other next, bowing low and holding his hands on the floor to steady himself. He goes lower and lower until he can cross his arms in front of him and rest his head on them, breathing in, breathing out, pushing his ass up to get a better stretch in his legs and- gosh. 

Keith is hard.

Lance holds the pose impossible long before finally releasing Keith from the perfect view and stepping one leg forward, holding his ankle with one hand and pulling the other hand towards the ceiling, almost behind him as he enters the triangle. 

Keith is the luckiest guy in the world.

Lance’s session goes on and one, and Keith’s dick gets harder and harder. It’s when Lance finally gets to one of Keith’s favorite poses, the Fixed Firm, that Keith can’t control himself anymore. 

As Lance lies there, sitting on his knees with his back bent so far back that his head is touching the floor again, Keith decides that enough is enough. He tiptoes into the room, kneels down on Lance’s matt and leans over the expand of Lance’s body, letting his eyes roam over the slither of skin that’s visible between his pants and the hem of his shirt, the little bit of chest Keith can see, the collarbones that get accentuated by Lance’s pose and finally, finally-

“Keith,” Lance hisses warningly, but it’s already too late. Keith is enchanted, enraptured, engrossed by Lance’s figure, by his body, by his hot breath and even hotter pose. 

He can’t help but reach out, let his fingers trace the valley between Lance’s abs, pushing his shirt up until it pools around his neck, gracing him with the image of his boyfriend laying in front of him. 

Keith’s hand moves up, over Lance’s ribs, over his dark areola, his hard, sensitive nipples. Lance sighs into his touch, his body relaxing as Keith manages to pull his focus from his workout for a second.

The moment ends too soon as Lance promptly turns around, ignoring his proper pose in order to ignore Keith, but- with the half tortoise he’s pulling on Keith, ass stretched up right in front of him, back so long, arms pushed over his head- 

Lance doesn’t know it yet, but Keith only gets impossibly harder. 

After a couple of moments where Keith keeps his hands on himself, Lance relaxes his pose, pushes his upper body up only to lean behind him, his pelvis pointing forward as he reaches the camel. His face is right above Keith’s hip, his lips slightly parted, his cheeks flushed, his gaze heated as he looks up to Keith, warning him to not do anything stupid. 

But who is Keith to listen to him?

He shuffles closer, watches how Lance’s eyes widen when he realizes what Keith wants to do, where Keith wants to go with his hard dick and need to touch him, to take some pressure off his dick, to finally feel Lance’s body on him.

Lance avoids Keith’s dick, still unzipped in his pants, by moving into the rabbit- the filthiest position in Lance’s repertoire. Ass up, face down, arms next to his legs where Keith could just pin him down, lean over his body as he holds his arms on the floor to push into him. 

Could-

Who is he kidding?

Lance realizes too late what he got himself into, he muttered protest on his lips that stops abruptly as Keith pins him down, hold him in place and grinds in one, slow, devious motion against Lance ass. 

Oh, yes. 

It’s not enough to come, not enough to pull him over the edge, but enough to make it impossible to stop. Keith rubs his dick against Lance’s ass, feels how Lance tightens under him, every muscle in his body clenching together as Keith uses him for his pleasure. 

But clenching is not what Keith wants Lance to do. They are doing yoga after all, and the most important thing about yoga is-

Keith leans down until his lips brush over Lance’s ear. “Come on, baby,” he whispers. “Relax.” He runs a hand over Lance’s tensed stomach, each ripple of abs and ribs, over his tight chest, his strong collar bones, over his neck and his jawline, holding it tight to force his head around. “That’s what you’re doing this for, right? To relax, to wind down, to enjoy yourself…” Keith leans over Lance’s shoulder to cast a chase kiss on his lips. “I’m just here to help.”

Keith’s mouth doesn’t part from Lance’s body as he lets go of his jaw to go down. He kisses Lance’s neck, embraces his shoulders, follows his spine all the way down where the hem of his shirt meets is pants. Both are overrated. 

“Keith, wai-” 

He ignores Lance as he pulls his shirt up and pushes his pants down, taking the underwear right with it before both of his hands find Lance’s again, holding him down onto the floor, kissing the two dimples above his ass before taking one of his cheeks between his teeth and-

“Fuck,” Lance curses, pulling on his arms but he’s stuck, helpless to Keith’s administration, to his mouth and his teeth and his kisses and his bites that leave beautiful marks across his ass. “Keith-” 

The whine makes Keith’s dick throb in his pants, his jeans turning too tight too quickly. He can feel his dick press against the zipper, wanting to get out, wanting to feel what Keith’s lips are feeling right now. But Keith prefers to take his time, make Lance feel the same things he’s feeling right now- want, lust, and infinite desire.

Keith bites Lance’s other cheek, just because he can, just because he wants to hear Lance scream his name, just because he needs to listen to the muttered curses and plead whines. He wants Lance to beg, wants him to feel the want, feel the need, feel what Keith desires to do with him. 

And Lance provides the screams, the curses, the whines and the pleas like the good boy he is. Provides Keith with everything he needs to come right here, on the spot, with Lance’s cheeks between his teeth and the taste of sweat on his lips- but he can’t come right now.

He needs to tease Lance after all.

Keith continues to ravish Lance’s cheeks until they are red from his tongue and marked from his teeth. Only then he dares to look at his work- his masterpiece, but a little thing between Lance’s cheeks turns his attention away too quickly. 

Is that-

Keith lets go of one of Lance’s arms to inspect the diamond that’s perched between Lance’s cheeks. He places a hand on Lance’s ass, lets his thumb feel the shape of the diamond before taking it between his fingers and pulling- 

“Aaah- Keith!” 

He stops when he hears Lance’s moan, realizes with giddy excitement that he’s holding one of his favorite buttplugs between his fingers, and decides here and there that he’s the luckiest man alive. Especially when he pushes the plug back in and-

“Keith, fu-” Lance moans, pressing his forehead against the floor. One hand reaches up to steady himself, but the other is still in Keith’s hold, unable to break free. Especially when Keith starts to tease him properly.

He pushes and pulls the plug, in and out, deep and shallow, fast and slow, everything to make Lance whine loud and moan louder. Each sound, each breath, each noise goes straight into Keith’s dick, his balls getting tight, ready to come on the spot.

When he teased Lance enough, he pulls the buttplug out, throws his next to him, not caring where it lands and slicking up three of his fingers with spit to replace the plug. He aligns his hand with Lance’s rim and slowly pushes his fingers in, drawing out every move until Lance stars pushing against him, deeper and deeper until he bottoms out. 

Lance’s whole body moves with him, his chest rising in quick motions, his hands clenching against his yoga matt, his spine rolling with every push, dropping with every pull, driving Keith crazy with every delicious curve. 

Keith needs to fist his own dick, circle the bottom with his fingers to concentrate on the pressure there instead of the raising heat deep in his gut. Shit, he really needs to get it going, or he will come without even feeling Lance clench around him- and that would be a shame. 

He lets go of Lance’s hand and wraps an arm around his chest instead, leaning his whole body against Lance’s back as takes his dick and pushes into Lance’s heat. Lance uses his newly found freedom to push himself from his matt and turn so he can catch Keith’s lips in his, holding his neck as he devours him with his tongue.

Yeah, Lance’s ass is great, but his mouth- holy shit, his mouth is pure heaven. 

Lance doesn’t let him take things slow, doesn’t give Keith time to get used to his ass, doesn’t give himself time to adjust as he quickly starts a soft rhythm when Keith bottoms out. 

Keith moves his hand from Lance’s chest to his stomach, feels how every muscle flex under him, feels how Lance’s breath gets forced out of his lungs with every push, feels how Lance’s heart beats in a crazy rhythm when Keith moves his hand to Lance’s dick. 

He changes the rhythm- faster, harder, deeper, everything that Lance likes, everything he likes- and listens with a content grin how Lance’s moans turn lower, louder, filled with lust and want and the pleas he just loves to hear. 

“Keith,” Lance whines, “Keith, please-”

“What do you want, babe?” Keith murmurs straight into Lance’s ear, fucking into him with every word, squeezing his dick with every pause. “Tell me, Lance, what do you want from me?”

“Ah-” Lance doesn’t get to speak, the heavy rhythm keeping him from forming a coherent sentence. “Ah- Keith!” 

Gosh, Keith loves that babbling. Loves to fuck Lance senseless, to feel him clench around him frustratedly when he can’t express what he wants Keith to do. Lance reaches down, runs his fingers over his chest, his stomach, his pubes, carefully wrapping his hand around Keith’s, around his own dick and squeezing himself to the rhythm of Keith’s dick in his ass. 

He’s so close already. So close that he can’t help himself, can’t keep his hands off him, trying to pull himself over the edge, hoping that Keith will follow along. All Keith can do is angle his hips a bit to the left, just a bit, just to find-

“Fuck!”

Yeah,  _ that _ spot. 

Keith kisses Lance’s shoulder as he aims for that spot over and over again, hitting it merciless just to hear his boyfriend scream out his name. When Lance turns restless, fucking his and Keith's hand even faster, Keith bites into his neck, not hard enough to break skin, hardly enough to do anything but fire him on even more. 

“Ah- I’m gonna-” Lance moans loudly, pushing his ass up even more. “Keith, I’m gonna-”

And Keith can’t help himself. Lance’s words, his wrecked voice, his ragged breath, and the orgasm that has been pooling deep in his gut for ages now hits him. He pushes into Lance, one, two times, doesn’t need more to spill into him with a low grunt and Lance’s name on his lips. 

Lance is right behind him, pushing into Keith’s fist and coming right there, all over Keith’s fingers and onto his matt. His walls clench tight around Keith, forcing a second orgasm out of him, Keith’s hips stuttering as he pushes even deeper into Lance, pulling his head around to crash their lips together. 

Their breaths slow down, just like their heartbeats, just like their kiss, and Keith pulls himself out to lie down onto the matt next to Lance. He wraps Lance into his arms, his sweat cooling against his heated skin, their clothes rumpled and dirty, but all Keith cares about is the boy in his arms. 

The whiney boy in his arms. 

Lance pouts at him. “You,” he murmurs, pointing against Keith’s chest, “ruined my shot.” 

Keith raises an eyebrow. “You’re shot?” He watches Lance nod, follows his eyes and finds a camera on a tripod in the corner of the room. “Wait,” he huffs, “you’ve been recording this?”

“Yeah, it’s for my youtube channel.” Lance leans his head against Keith’s chest and pushes his hand under Keith’s shirt. “ _ Was _ for my channel,” he pouts, “until you turned this into a porn video.”

Keith almost feels dirty. Almost, if it wasn’t for his favorite, diamond-shaped plug sitting innocently next to the camera. He looks back at Lance, a teasing grin on his lips. “You record with a buttplug?” 

The deep blush on Lance’s cheeks says it all. Lance even dares to look embarrassed, staring at the wall instead of his boyfriend, but Keith isn’t having it. He takes Lance’s chin in his hand and turns his head to make him face him, to kiss him senseless, hoping that Lance will give in to his next demand. 

Keith bites Lance’s lip gently before leaning up and whispering, “I want that.” 

Lance pouts at him, already trying to drag him down. 

“The video,” Keith clarifies, “I want that.” He pauses long enough for Lance to finally catch up, for his eyes to widen, for his blush to deepen, and for his lips to form a response. Keith interrupts him right there. “Especially the part where we fuck.” 

Lance hides his face behind his hands and groans loudly, trying to kick Keith off of him, which is not working, since Keith is still holding him in a tight embrace.

“So,” Keith leans forward to kiss Lance’s shoulder, “you’ll send it to me?”

Lance hesitates for a moment, but not long enough to worry Keith the slightest. “Only,” he murmurs, “ if you don’t make me watch it before we fuck.”

That’s valid. Keith wouldn’t like to see his own face before fucking Lance on a video either. 

Well, he would-  _ will _ concentrate on Lance anyway, but he gets what his boyfriend means. 

There is still one thing he has to ask though- “Can  _ I  _ watch it before we fuck?”

Lance sighs, utterly defeated. “Yeah.” 

“Deal.”

Lance gains a kiss and the promises of hundreds and thousands of great- no,  _ amazing _ fucks in the future.

Keith can’t wait to watch this video. Or to watch his boyfriend at another yoga session. 

Whatever comes first.


End file.
